


Episode Twenty:  Arise

by keirajo



Series: Transformers: Star Voyager [21]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Drama, Fate & Destiny, M/M, Matrix of Leadership (Transformers), Multi, Romance, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: Arise...............Rodimus Prime.





	Episode Twenty:  Arise

**Author's Note:**

> The penultimate episode of "Transformers: Star Voyager"! Enjoy a double length episode, everyone (four commercial breaks!).

Episode Twenty:  Arise

 

 

            The voices had slowly drawn a crowd of spectators in the large store.   Hot Rod, First Aid and Airrazor turned their heads from where they were at the payment counter, wondering just what the deal was with the big crowd.   It was a personal supply store……………so what could possibly draw a crowd such as this?   Free samples of medical supplies?   Samples of snack energels?

            “Those two _always_ start arguing when they meet in public—it’s more like a good-natured taunting, though,” the cashier mech responded with a soft chuckle when Hot Rod asked about the crowd.   “Jetfire is a premeire biology science major while Brainstorm tinkers and builds things—they’re fierce competitors with each other at the annual Science Utopia Conference, which is actually just in a few  more days.”

            “This conference thing must be a _very important_ deal………..?”  Airrazor asked, quietly, smiling up at the proprietor of the establishment.

            “Your frame design tells me you’re not from Bolohex…………I didn’t realize there was traffic from the other colonies coming through here anymore?”   He asked, tilting his head curiously.   “But yeah, the conference is really a big deal…………….a lot of big name companies attend the event and take on scientists, acting as their sponsors and fund their work.  There’s a big competition of researchers with a really huge grant of funds given to the one who has done the greatest work for science each year.”

            “We’re _just visiting_ and awaiting a conference with the leaders—just bringing messages from the other colonies,” Hot Rod responded, smiling warmly at the proprietor.   “We probably won’t be here for very long.”

            “I hope we see _more colonists_ come through one day—get some fresh faces through here.   _You_ have medical glyphs on your frame, are you from Sanctuary, then?”  He asked, nodding politely at First Aid.  “Oh, and by the way………m’name’s _Frameshock_.   Owner of this supply store, of course.”

            “Yep, I’m from Sanctuary.  I’m _very excited_ to be travelling with Hot Rod and the others.   You have a really great variation of simple medical supplies—if I had the funds, _I’d buy it all_ ,” First Aid laughed warmly.  “I’m First Aid—this is Hot Rod and Airrazor.”

            “So, if it _is_ a simple supply store………….why are _those two_ in here, if they are premeire scientists?”  Airrazor asked, nodding at the crowd and meaning the two mechs whose names the proprietor mentioned earlier.

            “Brainstorm _always_ needs medi-patches—but, honestly, he should stop being so reckless with his work.   Jetfire always comes in to just browse new decal designs and stuff………….not sure _why_ , he just does.   So, that’s why they tend to run into each other here pretty often,” Frameshock chuckled, absently rubbing his left forearm gauntlet.

            First Aid noticed the paint on the gauntlet was scraped and scratched pretty bad—even the armour-plating had been rubbed down, causing a worn dent in the top of it, it was no longer blue, but showing a marred grey.    “Mind if I take a look at your arm, Frameshock?”   The small medic asked, kindly, his voice warm and soothing.

            “ _My arm_ ………..?   Oh, **_that_** …………..been going on awhile, I guess I don’t even realize I’m messing with it anymore,” the older mech murmured softly.   But he held it out in offer to the small medic from Sanctuary, despite his words.

            First Aid held his palm out under Framshock’s dark grey servo, to steady the arm, and then a red optical shield dropped down over his bright blue optics.   Data glyphs flickered across the HUD of the optical shield as the small medic used various sensors to try and evaluate the issue with the arm.

            “The good news is………….it’s a _mere allergy_ ,” First Aid said, softly.   “The bad news is—without your medical history or anything, I can’t honestly deduce what you _might_ be allergic to.   Have you had this issue for a long time or has it just happened recently?”  He asked, curiously.

            “ _Meh_ ………..recently, I suppose.  Last year or so, I think…………..my frame physician doesn’t know what it is, but then our medics aren’t as intensely trained as the ones on Sanctuary,” the blue-and-grey mech answered with a shrug as First Aid finally let him relax his arm.

            “Come into any contact with something new or different in the past year?   Did you change the grade of your Energon intake perhaps—or tried a new Engex mixer?”   First Aid asked, tilting his head curiously.

            “ _Well_ ……………. ** _I guess_** …………..the shop started carrying these new……………energel snacks.   I have some on occasion, they’re pretty tasty,” the oldmech chuckled, ducking his head in embarrassment.

            “Do you think you could abstain from them for about six months to a year?”  The small medic from Sanctuary asked.   “It’ll take _at least_ three months for a fuel allergy to cycle out of the system and then another three months for your immunity protocols to rebuild and reestablish themselves.   After at least _six months_ you should notice a lot less itching and irritated derma…………a year would truly be best, but if you can go a minimum of six months to see if it truly is those snacks—then you’ll know not to have them anymore.”

            “ _Heh_ …………….I’ll give it a try, kid,” Frameshock laughed warmly.  

            As First Aid kept chatting warmly with the shop owner, Hot Rod and Airrazor gravitated over to the crowd to view the happenings between the two mechs.   They were quite curious to see why a crowd had actually gathered around them—if it were simply their normal ongoing rivalry.

            “And honestly, _the only reason_ you keep winning every year is because of your outrageous and overblown displays— ** _no one can compete with that_**!    Then you lose all that funding within six months because they realize you _can’t commit_ to a project!”   The tall mech with wings on the back of his frame and armour of a white-and-red coloring groaned deeply.

            “At least **_I_** go all out!”   The teal-and-white shorter mech responded, his servos on his hips and leaning forwards in a confrontational posture.   He also had wings on his back, too.  So that meant they were both aerial mechs.   “ ** _Gah!_**    All of you _oldtimers_ just keep doing the same old dumb and boring things!   This is why all research on this world is _so stagnant_!”

            “You _only_ go all out until you become _utterly bored_!   Name me **_one_** big project investors took you in on and you _actually finished_?!”   The tall aerial mech snapped back, waving his arms a bit in gesticulation with his words.   “At least Beachcomber and I _always_ …………… ** _ALWAYS_** finish our research and development, no matter _how small_ the investor is!”

            “Look—you and I snap like this _every time_ we meet out in public.  I’ll say this _now_ like I say it to you every time we meet— _prove you’ve got what it takes at Utopia this year_.  **_Only_** if you win and gain the investors’ attention will I believe a ridiculous area of biological research is worth any kind of interest!   **_Prove it, Jetfire!_**    I _won’t_ believe it until you do!”  The shorter teal-and-white mech sighed, finally just tossing his servos into the air and turned away from his rival, folding his arms crossly.

            “Maybe this year I will finally topple your overblown dramatic performances at Utopia, Brainstorm!”  Jetfire snapped back.   Then his optics caught a glance of unfamiliar frames in the crowd.   “ _Ah_ , visitors to Periphery!    Have you come to view this year’s Science Utopia Conference?”   The tall red-and-white aerial mech asked, smiling over at Hot Rod and Airrazor.   Hot Rod’s bold, fiery colors made him stand out in a field of blues, reds and whites…………while Airrazor’s clearly bestial frame was _very different_ from the standard mechs and femmes of Bolohex.   “ _Welcome to Periphery!_    My designation is _Jetfire_ ,” he added with a big smile at them, giving a formal dip of his shoulders.

            “We’re merely passing through—waiting to talk to the leadership council about news from the colonies,” Hot Rod answered.   “Not sure we’ll be around long enough for the conference.   Say—since we’re talking to you, though…………..you wouldn’t happen to know someone who might have an idea about _quantum engines_ , would you?”

            “ _Oh!_    _I do!   I do!_ ”  The teal-and-white mech, previously addressed as Brainstorm said, excitedly.   He looked excited enough to jump up and down, if he didn’t realize it’d be completely embarrassing.

            “ _Gah_ ………….don’t let him get started, he **_never_** finishes things he starts!”   Jetfire groaned.   “What do you two think—is organic biological research viable and feasible?”  He asked, curiously.

            “Well, as a guy who comes from only a _partially-cyberformed_ world and knows that most worlds in the universe are organic—I’d say organic biological research is like _really important_ , you know?”   Hot Rod said, grinning broadly up at the biologist mech.

            “Gaea is _mostly organic_ , we’ve had to adapt our frames to it……………so, I feel it is likely a noteworthy pursuit of research,” Airrazor responded, smiling warmly up at Jetfire.

            “ _Jeeze_ , don’t encourage him— _nobody_ wants to hear such silly things,” Brainstorm groaned.

            “Regardless of that, we do still need someone to at least take a glance at our quantum engines to see if there’s an issue—like our mechanic thinks.   Her name’s _Override_ —our ship is parked over at _governmental lot five_ ,” Hot Rod said, nodding politely at Brainstorm.   “Tell her **_I_** sent you over, name’s _Hot Rod_ —if you didn’t hear earlier, this is _Airrazor_.  Our companion at the counter is _First Aid_.”

            “I’m gonna go _now_!”   Brainstorm chortled and then rushed out of there like his circuits were on fire!

            “I hope he doesn’t do _half-afts_ work for you, Hot Rod,” Jetfire said with a sigh.   “You are some sort of aerial mech, right, Airrazor?”   He asked, looking down at the small Gaean femme curiously.

            “ _Mmmm_.   My alt mode is a **_Falcon_** ,” she responded with a smile, then folded her hands and gave the half-bow as was her personal custom upon meeting people.

            “What is it like……………being on worlds with an organic base and organic population?”  The tall red-and-white mech asked, cupping his chin, thoughtfully.

            “Would you want to come with us?”  Hot Rod asked, grinning up at the tall aerial mech.   “When we’ve been visiting the colonies, we’ve been taking on new crew as well—you’re _welcome_ to join us, if you’d want to explore………………though it _might_ be dangerous sometimes.”

            “I imagine………….how many are on your crew?  How many colonies have you visited?”  Jetfire asked, tilting his head down at Hot Rod.

            “Gaea, Fortress and Sanctuary—and here, of course,” the young, flame-colored mech answered happily.   “And Cybertron.   We’ve got………… _mmmmm_.   Five, plus three, plus six…………that’s _fourteen_ crew total now—but some of our crew is back on Cybertron, assisting the Autobots with something.”

            Jetfire was puzzled at the name “ _Autobots_ ”.   But…………..Hot Rod knew there were things he couldn’t say yet—not until they talked to the governmental leaders.  Jetfire just took it all with a smile and gave another formal dip of his shoulders to the flame-colored mech.

            “I’ll consider your offer, Hot Rod…………..and I’ll talk it over with my partner, Beachcomber,” Jetfire responded with a smile.  “It was great to meet you both—enjoy your time in Periphery!”   He added, waving farewell to them as he walked out of the shop.

            The crowd had slowly dispersed when Brainstorm left earlier……..clearly he was a popular young mech.   First Aid came back from the payment counter and joined them.   Hot Rod explained everything that happened, while the small medic said he made transportation arrangements for their supplies to be delivered to the ship.   The three decided to finally just return to the _Star Voyager_ and try to relax before the events of tomorrow.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “Wait, _what_?   Drift…………..are you okay?”  Hot Rod asked, desperately, wrapping his arms around his white-and-grey colored lover consolingly.

            “ _Yeah_.   Starscream’s here and from what Drift explained about his conversation to me—it sounds like he’s trying to use the Matrix to bring his lovers back from the dead,” Blurr said, shaking his head seriously.

            Drift held on to Hot Rod, his grip firm and warm.  “I’ll be all right, dear-spark………….I’m just _very worried_ about what he’s going to try and do with the Matrix.   I mean, from a mythological standpoint—the Matrix is supposed to dip into the Well of Allsparks, so that Primus can create new life, but…………….bringing ones _already **sparked** and **died**_ back from the Afterspark or the Pit, I don’t think that’s even _mythologically_ possible.  And certainly _not_ realistically possible.”   Then the younger swordsmech pulled away and rested his forehead lightly against Hot Rod’s, craving his younger lover’s warmth and kindness right now.  “I contacted Magnus while you were gone—just to let him know what was going onand he swore was going to try and get here, but Star Saber said we’d keep following the original plan to meet back up on Caprica and will try to stop Magnus from doing something emotionally desperate.”

            “ _We can handle it_.  I hope you can maybe get through to Starscream and stop him from whatever he’s going to attempt,” Hot Rod said, firmly, rubbing Drift’s back consolingly.   “I’ll ask at the conference tomorrow if we can get Starscream’s residence—I’ll find a way to _politely ask_.”

            “ ** _You_**.  _Tell him now_.   This is probably when it’s all going to go down, Hot Rod,” Blurr said, quietly, his tone very dangerous.   He _never_ called his best friend by designation unless the situation were _really serious_.

            “ _Okay_.   C’mon, Drift…………let’s go to my quarters,” the flame-colored mech sighed softly.

            Once they got there, Hot Rod sat in the center of the berth and folded his legs crosslegged and then patted the berth to show Drift should join him—but for _talking_ , not for _fragging_.

            “ _So_ ………… ** _look_**.   The visions I’ve had since I had the one issue with Magnus—our bad time where he had to leave for a bit…………….it’s…………..they’re a _lot more detailed_ than you know.   I never said anything more to you or Magnus, because………….I _don’t_ want you two worrying about me and I _really don’t_ want you to kill yourselves protecting me,” Hot Rod said, very seriously.  He incycled and exvented a couple of times, to steady his nerves, before continuing on with his explanations.   “Blurr and I share _everything_ , we **_always_** have—so, when I _couldn’t_ tell you guys, I told him.   He knows _all_ my visions that I’ve had, _all the details_.”

            Drift reached for Hot Rod’s grey servos and held them gently within his own.   He had always suspected that somehow Hot Rod were hiding something from him, he wasn’t completely sure what it was—but he figured the reason was that the flame-colored mech was just trying to protect the other beloved members of his trine.

            “Drift…………..it’s _not just Unicron_.  He’s not the _only danger_.   In fact, he’s _not even_ the biggest danger,” the young flame-colored mech said, softly, squeezing Drift’s servos warmly.   “It’ll be _Unicron’s legacy_ —the two he leaves behind………….the ones that cause a schism in the Decepticons.   Primus is fully ready to take on Unicron—once I bring his Spark back to Cybertron.   And…………yeah, it’s definitely me.”

            “ _So_ …………..even after we defeat Unicron—there’s still the war?”  Drift asked, tilting his head curiously.

            “On _two fronts_ —the Decepticons following Galvatron and the Decepticons following Nemesis Prime,” Hot Rod answered, nodding at the grey-and-white mech.   “Remember when Mags said that Unicron stole bodies from the battlefield on Root?   One of them was Optimus Prime’s body……………he has been remade into Nemesis Prime—even if they haven’t seen him appear yet, like they have Galvatron.   Galvatron is all action and passion—while Nemesis Prime is careful and evaluative.   And _both_ are going to gain _more followers_ —so, it will be up to me to rally the Autobots, to face them both.  The colonies will be in danger and we have to unite them—we need to make new, functioning spacebridges.”

            “It won’t be over, even when we reach the end…………..” Drift murmured, dipping his helm sadly.   “We’re _not_ going home to Corona, are we?”

            “I’m glad you consider it home so quickly.   Because, _I_ can send you there—once I take command,” the young, flame-colored mech answered, quietly.   His tone was so much more mature than it was when Drift first met the younger mech.   “I can send you there _to protect it_ —I can send both you and Mags there………….”

            Drift made a few staticky, rumbling sounds deep in his vocalizer before he looked up to gaze into his young lover’s optics.  “I _won’t_ leave your side—no matter what happens……………and I know Magnus will feel the same way,” he said, his deep voice quiet and gentle as he held Hot Rod’s servos with all the love in his Spark.

            “That’s why I’m _not telling him_ what I’m telling _you_ right now.   _I can’t do it_ , because………………..Mags will **_break_** himself trying to protect me from everything,” Hot Rod whispered.   “ _You_ know that.   You _know_ how he feels about me.”

            “Should **_I_** tell him?”   Drift asked, wondering why Hot Rod was veering in the direction of keeping the third of their trine in the dark.

            “You _can’t_.   He needs to see it _for himself_ ,” the flame-colored mech murmured, shaking his head very firmly.  “Drift, you have to _absolutely promise me_ —you will **_not_** say anything to Mags about what I’ve just discussed with you.   _You have to swear it_!”   Hot Rod snapped, his tone at the utmost of seriousness.

            There was an eternal flame blazing deep in the youth’s optics.   He _knew_ what he was doing.   He had known what this journey has been for some time now—that much was suddenly clear to the young swordsmech.   Drift raised Hot Rod’s soft grey servos to his lips and kissed the knuckles, brushing over them lightly and lovingly.

            “ _I swear it_ …………….. ** _my guiding light_** ,” Drift whispered back.

            Hot Rod pounced on him, pressing Drift down into the berth and crushing his lips to his lover’s.   When he finally pulled away, their engines were roaring and their cooling fans had kicked in.   They panted against one another’s lips and nuzzled each other fondly.

            “ _I miss Mags_.   I miss fragging with him.   I miss him being overprotective and the way he talks so formally.   I miss Mags _so much_ ,” Hot Rod whispered, laying his head gently on Drift’s shoulder and he let the swordsmech gently stroke his backstrut.

            “Me too, dear-spark,” Drift chuckled, planting a light kiss on the top of Hot Rod’s rounded helm.   “I look forward to the time when we’ll get to bond again……………the warmth of his Spark is truly amazing.”

            “ _Yeah_.  I’ve always loved how warm and how eternal his Spark is,” Hot Rod murmured.   “We’ll meet up on Caprica……………but……………..I’ll have _changed_ by then and………………….will Mags still love me when I’m as big as he is and quite possibly stronger than him?”

            “Are you _seriously_ asking me that question?   A question like **_that_**?   Blurr might be wrong in telling me you’re actually _‘really smart’_ ,” Drift laughed softly, patting Rodimus’ back right below the spoiler.

            “But……………I’ve always been _‘small’_ to Magnus………….” the flame-colored mech whispered, burying his face in Drift’s neck, shyly.

            “Dear-spark, it’s _not your size_ ……….. _your flames_ ………… ** _or_** _your sex-drive_ that Magnus likes.   He likes your Spark, he likes your kindness and warmth…………he likes your compassion and your energy,” the swordsmech responded, grinning and reach up a servo to stroke Hot Rod’s red helm.  “Don’t worry about silly things like this—they’re foundless concerns.  He loves you and treasures you more than anything in this universe.”

            “ ** _Okay_**.   _Ummm_ ………..Drift………..?”  Hot Rod murmured, raising his head up enough to look into his lover’s faceplate.

            “Frag you now?”  The grey-and-white mech teased, planting a kiss lightly on the nasal ridge of the younger mech.

            “ _That too_.   But……………I love you and I want to reassure you……………we’ll **_all_** make it through this entire mess—even if I have to use everything I’ve got to see us through to the end,” Hot Rod responded as Drift’s servos planted on his aft and began caressing and exploring.

            “ _Flame of Eternity_ ,” Drift whispered, smiling at the flame-colored mech.

            Their lips met and their glossa caressed, as heat began flaring through their frames like wildfire.   Drift rolled them over so that Hot Rod was beneath him and slid down—his lips making a damp and heated trail down to the flame-colored mech’s groin-plating.

            “Open for me, dear-spark,” Drift purred, dragging his glossa heavily on the waist plating between the younger mech’s legs.  It didn’t take more than an astrosecond before the interface array plating snapped open eagerly, to reveal Hot Rod’s already-aroused state.   “Good mech,” he chuckled, bending his face down and swiping his wet glossa through the even wetter folds of swollen mesh.   He made sure his valve-licking was loud and audible—all merely to fire Hot Rod up even more.

            “ _Primus_ ………………….. ** _Driiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiifffffffffffffffttttttttttttttt_**!!!”  Hot Rod groaned as his back arched and he tried to press his array into his lover’s faceplate.  The swordsmech’s glossa felt so good on the folds of his valve…………..so very good………….!

            “Here—let me give you something to _keep you busy_ ,” Drift laughed, reaching up to grab one of Hot Rod’s servos and planted it directly on the flame-colored mech’s fully-pressurized spike.   “Play with that for me, while I take care of this greedy little valve of yours,” he chuckled.

            “ _’Kay_ ………….” Hot Rod moaned, beginning to stroke his spike hungrily and rapidly.   He felt like he was on fire and all he wanted to do was just to explode.

            Drift grinned and bent his attention back down to the younger mech’s valve and brought his servos up to part the swollen mesh lips and peer inside at the glorious yellow and orange helix of biolights delving down deep into the interior.   Several sensors inside the valve walls pulsed fitfully with a reddish-pink tone, showing the charge of arousal was building sharply.   He eyed the locations of the sensors and then pressed his glossa in deep, to stroke them, sending a light charge through his own glossa to fire the sensors up even more.

            He’d had _decades_ to learn and refine his techniques—the majority of which had been taught to him by Starscream.   It wasn’t simply that Starscream knew his little Deadlock didn’t have an interface array, but he and his trine experimented with interfacing and their sexuality in many ways—to adapt and find ways towards pleasure, _even when the union of two frames couldn’t be done_.    So, Starscream taught the much younger version of Drift a way to cycle light charge through his fingertips and glossa—to provide a _tease of charge_ that a spike would normally provide to a valve—as well as how to ground out and accept the return charge of your partner.

            Then young Deadlock had discovered he could feel the pleasure of his partners by bleeding off their emotional charges in their EM fields through his own.   It was the adaptation of a path to pleasure for those who were born on Fortress, with no interface array and without a traditional way to overload.   The trine always let their EM fields blaze with their arousal and ecstasy, so the former version of Drift was **_never_** left wanting for an overload high.

            Hot Rod turned into a mewling, whimpering mess of a mech, jerking his spike hard, as Drift ate out his valve.   When the flame-colored mech overloaded, so much charge was released that it crackled all through the interior and exterior of his frame, sending Drift into a massive system overload of his own.

            “Man, _that was amazing_ ……………thanks, Drift,” Hot Rod panted, lying limp in the berth.

            “Thank you, as well, Hot Rod,” Drift chuckled, stretching out beside his young lover.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Starscream looked at the gateway……………he’d stared at it constantly for most of the past week that he’d been here.   He’d had to do everything _so fast_.   He figured the Autobots would pursue him, as soon as they could get away from the battle on Root—but he _hadn’t_ expected to encounter Deadlock in a new frame, knowing about the Matrix and that Starscream had taken it.   That surely meant he hadn’t come to Bolohex alone—and maybe he was even with the Autobots………

            Starscream was _out of time_ ………………..the new wiring and circuitry just had to work—if it didn’t…………

            _If the gateway **didn’t** work……………_

            “ _No_.  I can’t afford to think that,” Starscream mumbled to himself, going over to the mainframe and running through some diagnostic programs again, gazing at the Matrix in its glass casing beside the computer.   “I only failed back on Cybertron, because I _didn’t_ have the anchor—I have the anchor now— _it will work_!”  He said, firmly, shaking his head.   “ _Sky_ ………… _Thunder_ ………….I’ll get you back, soon—I promise!”   The scientist swore, desperately, gazing longingly at the metal arch in the center of the vast room.

            That had been true devastation, way back then— _back on Cybertron_ all those millennia ago.   He’d worked with Sentinel Prime and the police force to try and solve a strange mystery, while working on his great thesis project.   _The Afterspark Gate_.   He’d been working on the theories for decades while at the Science Institute—this very device was his master’s thesis presentation.

            _The bridge between the stories in religion and the potential reality of an Afterspark_.

            He’d made the device, but he didn’t have the anchor back then—he _couldn’t_ convince the Council of Primes to loan him the Matrix for his presentation, of course.   So, he’d tried to use _a substitute_.   It had started to work……..and then spectacularly failed.

            At the same time the job recruitment bill passed in the Council of Primes.

            With his failed thesis presentation, Starscream simply no longer had the Spark to stick around and see if the Science Institute would fight for him to remain there—all he could do was dwell on his failure and the idea that he and his trine would be forced into new jobs at the aerial corps.   Forced into jobs unsuitable for Skywarp and Thundercracker………….and separated because………..well, just because they could be separated by jobs.

            _He wouldn’t allow it. **He would not allow it at all!**_

            He joined the _Decepticon Movement_.

            Yes, Starscream had regretted it sometimes—especially after Liege Maximo made a brute like Megatron the figurehead of the movement.    But he would _not ever_ regret fighting for the freedom of himself and his trine.   _Or fighting for the freedom to make your own choices_ —which was why so many of the few aerial types on Cybertron made the decision to follow Starscream into working with the Decepticon Movement.   Before he knew it—Starscream was given the commanding position of the aerial corps…………………and he found himself protecting more than just his trine and keeping them free.   He had a larger family now—and he would fight for their freedom just as fiercely as he fought for the freedom of himself and his trine.

            The fight on Root and losing Skywarp and Thundercracker—finding out Optimus Prime had the Matrix…………..and when the Autobot Leader was wounded…………..Starscream knew he’d **_never_** have another chance.   Then he blew a hole in Optimus Prime’s chest—probably making his battle-wounds _instantly fatal_ —and took the Matrix out of the exposed chest cavity and ran for it.    He prayed he could make his jet mode get just far enough in space to hit another planet……………………

            And that was when he felt the Matrix actually _boosting_ him.   Whatever the Matrix gave him, allowed him to make it to Bolohex scarcely a week ago—and he began non-stop working on the Afterspark Gate again.   Surely having the _true anchor_ would work—and surely the Matrix _would not_ fail him………….since it allowed him to fly all the way to Bolohex so that he could at least try to do this!

            He just hoped he had enough time before Deadlock—now named Drift and associated with a bunch of other people—found him and tried to stop him………………

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            While Hot Rod, Override and Streetwise went to the meeting with the council on Bolohex—the remainder of the _Star Voyager_ crew remained with the ship.  First Aid and Airrazor were unpacking all the medical supplies and stocking up the medi-bay.   Blurr and Groove were watching Brainstorm work on the quantum engines—hoping that the science mech wasn’t spastic enough to just stop working on them because he was bored…………as Jetfire had feared possible.

            “This is _tons of fun_ , but I seriously need a break,” Brainstorm groaned, backing away from the paneling and closing it up.   “When are you guys leaving?”   He asked, looking at Blurr and Groove, curiously.

            “After we find out how the council takes things—what we’re doing isn’t exactly leisurely,” Blurr responded, giving a light shrug.   “Is there anything I can do, to make this go faster for you?”   The young blue-colored mech asked, tilting his head at Brainstorm.

            “No…………..it’s really just a few more adjustments.   Even though it’s old tech, it’s pretty solid craftsmanship,” the young teal-and-white mech said with a grin beneath his facial shield.   “It’s too bad—I’d _really_ like to examine more of this ship’s guts.   Anyways—let me go grab a can of Energon and take a walk up and down the halls to get my joints flexible again.”

            “Check the medi-bay right now……………First Aid is taking count of the stock, including all Energon and Engex!”  Blurr called after the scientist as he jogged out of the engine room.

            Brainstorm hummed a bit as he rounded corners and headed for the medi-bay.   He saw the small femme and the small medic bustling about the sparkling clean area.   They were both pretty cute little ones………..both fairly young, as the scientist understood it—so, within his own age range, most likely………..meaning less than a few centuries.   Neither were mini-bots, but they were both shorter than the average mech or femme………….which made them both _very cute_.

            “Excuse me!   Mind if I ask for a can of Energon before I get back to work?”  Brainstorm called, just loud enough to startle them both and get their attention.

            “ _Oh!_    Yes…………please allow me!”   The brown-and-yellow femme said suddenly, walking over to a storage cooler and pulling out a canister of mid-grade.   “Here you are.   We must try to save the _high grade_ for the Voyager Class mechs of our crew right now—their frames need it more.   Hot Rod is very good at adding boosters to meals to make up for us having drinking a lower grade.”

            “Lower grade’s no problem,” Brainstorm chuckled, opening the can and taking a big drink from it.   So the lithe little flame-colored mech was a cook, as well as a leader—a multitalented little guy!  “ _Say_ ……I heard someone say you were from _Gaea_ —is that really true?”   He asked, smiling down at the small femme.

            “Yes.   It’s a beautiful planet, but I lost my home…………..” Airrazor murmured softly, a little bit of sadness in the tone of her voice.   “But I like everyone here on the ship and I like seeing new things!”   She added excitedly.   “I _love_ First Aid—he’s so nice and so talkative……….and I never knew medical science could be so rewarding!”

            First Aid’s faceplate turned a bright pink.   “She doesn’t mean that in the way _you’re_ thinking of—you clearly don’t know what _‘friendship love’_ is…………” the small medic responded when Brainstorm looked between the two smaller beings with a bit of shock.   “Keep in mind, she’s _very innocent_.   So, please don’t harass her.   And **_I_** am far from being innocent,” he added, suddenly turning a warning glare up at the scientist from Bolohex.   He didn’t say it aloud, but his tone certainly said “ _if you mess with her, I’ll kill you_ ”.

            “So………….is _everyone_ here from a different colony then?   How many colonies have you visited?”  The teal-and-white scientist asked, tilting his head curiously at the smaller two, as he leaned back against one of the medical berths.

            “Hot Rod and Blurr are from Corona……I do not know where sir Drift is from, I have not heard him speak of it—but he came from Corona with Hot Rod and the others.  Lady Override is from Velocitron.   Sir Ultra Magnus is from Cybertron.   My gentle knight, Star Saber, is from Meteor.   Grotusque and I are from Gaea.  First Aid, his lovers and Roadfire are all from Sanctuary,” Airrazor said, warmth in the tone of her voice as she looked up at Brainstorm.

            “They came from Corona and have been to Cybertron, but only three colonies otherwise.   Corona was a popular colony for relocation,” First Aid added.  “It isn’t up to us to say any more about the situation— _that’s_ for Hot Rod to discuss if you really want to hear such information.”

            “ _Hmmmm_.   Sounds juicy,” Brainstorm chuckled, sensing that there was a lot more here than met the optics.   “Well, I’d better get back to the engine room before Blurr comes looking for me.   Besides, I’d like to prove Jetfire wrong and show I _can_ complete something I set out to do!”   He laughed.   “Thanks for talking to me!”   He added as he left the medi-bay.

            Brainstorm was now suddenly very curious about the journey.   _A secret, eh?_    The young scientist loved secrets and gossip.   And _adventure_ ……………….maybe not the idea of potential danger so much, but……………….there was probably stuff on other colonies he could evaluate and expand his set of knowledge!    He rounded the corner to go back to the engine room, when he saw the grey-and-white mech leading a very familiar duo around the corridors.

            “Well, well, well…………………Jetfire and Beachcomber!   What brings _you_ _two_ here?   **_I’m_** working on their quantum engines!”   Brainstorm said proudly.

            “ _Working_.   **_Right_** ,” Beachcomber said with a groan.  The blue-and-white mini-bot folded his arms and shook his head in disbelief.

            “We’re going to join their crew.   Hot Rod _invited_ us,” Jetfire responded, looking down at Brainstorm with a soft smile.   “ _You_ should probably get to work though.   Drift is going to show us to our quarters on the ship,” he added.

            Jetfire was rubbing it in.   _He totally was_.   Now Brainstorm found himself completely torn………….. _he_ ………….he wanted to join the crew now, too.   He was jealous that Hot Rod had asked Jetfire and not him!   But……. _then_ ……he did kind of just run off after the flame-colored mech made mention of the ship’s quantum engines needing maintenance.   Maybe Hot Rod _would’ve_ asked him to join, too, if he hadn’t just dashed off like that…………..?

            Then if Brainstorm was going to prove he was _worthy_ of joining this strange crew—he’d _better_ get back to working on those engines.   **_RIGHT NOW_**.   The young scientist suddenly quickened his pace and set his brain into overdrive—he would have those engines upgraded and online and ready to go by the time the flame-colored mech and his entourage returned from their engagement with the council.   He’d _prove_ that he could be a great addition to the crew!

            As Brainstorm rushed off back to the engine room, Drift took the two mechs to a set of quarters in the habitation suite area.

            “I am not intending to pry, but would you like one room or two?   Each suite is designed for two, but we don’t have a lot of crew and there are plenty of rooms at the moment, so you’re welcome to each have your own room,” Drift said, inclining his head politely at them.

            “We’ve lived and worked together for decades now, we’re fine with sharing a room.  In fact, it lets us work late—even if we’re only holding discussions on biological topics,” Jetfire explained.

            “He _lies_.   **_Massively_**.   We’re _bonded_ —of course we’re sharing a room,” Beachcomber laughed, a wry tone in his voice.   “But I appreciate your politeness, young Drift,” the smaller mech chuckled, smiling up at the grey-and-white swordsmech.

            “Would it be all right if I asked you both a question?   Only because—I ran into someone I used to know here in Periphery—they’re _not_ from Bolohex.   Fair-sized mech, not as tall as you, Jetfire—but _taller than I am_.   **_Battle-scarred_**.   He’s got some scientific leanings……….” Drift began, looking at the two biology majors.

            “Aerial mech, right?   Red and blue with some off-white coloring?”  Beachcomber asked, looking up at the swordsmech.   “He came to Bolohex less than a week ago……..had a little bit of junk to trade and took a _warehouse_ to live in, rather than a suite.   A bit strange, but he seems very intelligent—of course that would let him fit in instantly here.”

            “Yes, that’s him— _that’s Starscream_ ,” Drift said, desperately.   He trembled with anxiousness—would he be able to make it in time to stop his beloved guardian and teacher from making a horrible mistake.

            “You mean the one who tried to build the Afterspark Gate over four million years ago?   _That_ was a legendary prospect—science journals all over Cybertron and here on Bolohex were talking about it for centuries after that!”  Jetfire gasped.  “I had no idea _that_ scarred older mech was _that Starscream_!”

            “Do you know where he’s living?”  The younger swordsmech asked, trying not to sound too overeager for the information.

            “Yeah, there’s this old warehouse not too far from the edge of Periphery—can’t miss it, it’s the _only one_ in a state of disrepair.  It was going to be torn down, but this Starscream arrived and asked if he could have it for himself, to run lab experiments in,” Beachcomber answered.   “I suppose the council figured that if he made a mess of it, it didn’t really matter much.”

            “Thank you both so very much!   I _need_ to find him…………. _I_ ………….I think he’s going to try to build the Afterspark Gate again!   I _have_ to stop him before he…………………….!”  Drift muttered, completely distracted from his original task of showing the two around the ship now.   “Will you two be all right on your own?   Groove and Blurr are in the engine room, while First Aid and Airrazor are in the medi-bay if you need anyone.”

            “We’ll be fine.   Go find your friend,” Jetfire said, kindly, reaching down to rub Drift’s head with fondness.

            Drift sent a glyphed message to Hot Rod as he left the _Star Voyager_ —and promised to give his exact location as soon as he found the warehouse the two biology majors had mentioned.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Starscream was _so close_ now.   All he had to do was……………….. ** _turn it on_**.   After all these millennia—after that massive failure back at the Science Institute—now he was ready to have a success.  It _would_ be a success this time— _it absolutely had to succeed_.   He couldn’t go another week without his trine and the emptiness in his Spark.  

            He was more than ready to bring the ones he loved more than anything back into this world.

            _And that damn pounding on the door was not going to get him to answer it right now_.

            The old aerial mech made some final calculations and eyed everything, right before setting the Matrix into the strange-looking adaptor, with its crystal heart facing down into the optical readers of the device.   Everything hummed and glowed just perfectly, with all the precise calculations.  It was just as it should be—just as he designed and calculated all those millennia ago!

            The door suddenly _screamed_ —no, it was just _something cutting the metal_ of the door that sounded like screaming—right before it caved in.

            “ ** _Starscream!_**    _Please stop! **You’re** …………!_”  Drift cried, ache in his Spark as he saw the device was clearly in the early stages of activation—it was all warmed up.

            “ ** _Shut up, you brat!_** ”  Starscream snarled.   “ _You **don’t** know what it’s like and you **ran away**!   You have **no right** to………..!_”   He yelled, fiercely, glaring at the younger mech with his single good optic.

            “I was stupid and I was scared!  _Okay?_   **_Happy?!_**    But you _can’t_ …………!”  Drift yelled back, thrusting his swords back into the sheaths at his hips and stomped over to Starscream.

            “You _don’t know_ what it’s like to live without them………………you can’t imagine the infinite emptiness in my Spark…………. _so, just be quiet and let me bring them back_!”  Starscream snapped, his voice coming lower in pitch as he forced himself to calm down a bit.

            “But this _isn’t_ the way—you might damage the Matrix………….it’s the _only thing_ that can stop Unicron!   _Hot Rod needs it to stop the Chaos Bringer!_ ” Drift cried, desperately, wanting desperately to hug his old teacher, but held back from doing so.   “And I can guess at how you feel………….because………….. _I’ve_ become part of a trine.   **_You_** ………………. _you gave me everything, Starscream._    You taught me how to be respectful, you taught me how to appreciate the ones you take to berth, you taught me how to use a sword………………..and I saw how your trine was.   I saw the incredible balance to your lives that it brought…………….and when I had the chance to claim a partner— _I chose a trine as well_.   Hot Rod and Magnus mean everything to me and…………………I know how devastated I’d be if I lost them!”

            Starscream hesitated, a finger over the activation button on the console before him.   “I _don’t_ believe in Unicron……………he’s a made-up fantasy,” he muttered, softly.

            “Please, Starscream………….. _don’t do this_.   Come with us, to stop the Chaos Bringer and his minions—he _really is real_ , I’ve seen him!”  Drift said, his voice becoming urgent as he hoped to persuade his guardian and teacher from this dangerous course.   “You’re _so brilliant_ —we could truly use someone like you on the ship………” the swordsmech pleaded desperately.

            “I’m glad you’re being taken care of—cared for in the way you _should have been_.   This is all the Primes’ fault, you know?   The seeds they planted on other worlds were _never meant to be_ —the Matrix should never have left Cybertron,” the older mech said, his voice a soft echo in the room.

            “ _I know_.   I know you feel like that, but…………” Drift began, taking another step towards his beloved teacher.

            “It’s too bad _you never listen_ ,” Starscream said, a soft chuckle of madness in his voice as his entire palm slammed down on the activation button.

            The arch in the center of the massive room crackled with energy, bolts rippling back and forth over its dull-silvered frame.   Suddenly a swirl of blue, glowing matter formed in the center of it—small at first, but as it spun it began to grow larger.

            Drift _wasn’t_ a scientist—he didn’t know what to do to actually deactivate it—so he did what a violent warrior child of Fortress might do…………. _he rushed at the massive arch with his greatsword drawn_.   Starscream leapt in front of him, drawing a sword from over his shoulder and met him as an equal on the field of battle.   The older mech’s ferocity was almost palpable in the room…………..and that was when Drift realized………….. _Starscream’s EM field was gone_.

            **_It wasn’t merely locked down……………it was non-existent._**

            _Everyone_ of Cybertronian descent had an EM field…………..whether born on Cybertron or on Root, Corona or Gaea.   Everyone had a field from the moment they were sparked into existence.   The EM field was as much a part of them as their Spark or their T-Cog……………….it was the way they interacted with each other— _friendliness or warning, love or hate_ —even when words were never spoken.   Knowledge of a presence…………..the need to comfort………………..a silent way of communication for their species.   Not having an EM field to know what was around you— _who was around you_ —it was **_utterly unthinkable_**.

            And Starscream’s EM field was _gone_.

            He lost his trine, he lost his field—he had no way of relating to the mortal world any longer.  No wonder Starscream had gone mad……………..and took steps down this dark path!

            As their swords clashed and Drift tried as hard as he could to take his teacher down without hurting him, he got a quick glyph from Hot Rod that they were on their way—he, Override and Blurr—Hot Rod asked everyone else to remain with the _Star Voyager_ and wait for them to return.

            Drift danced and spun, his steps matching and meeting those of the mech who taught him how to use the sword in the first place.   Starscream’s steps were measured and perfect and flowed like the wind in a valley—silent, swift and unencumbered.  _Blades crashed and rang, searing their audials with cries that were like the mournful wailing of a lover lost, a child hurting_ …………. ** _despair and chaos threatening to consume their Sparks and programs_** ………….!

            The grey-and-white mech had no idea how long they’d been fighting, but he vaguely heard Hot Rod and the others come in.   He couldn’t respond to the one he loved—but he knew the flame-colored mech understood he was busy with this conflict.    He dimly heard Hot Rod issuing orders to Override and Blurr and trying to shut down the system.

            Override’s angry snarls as the console and system refused to respond to any commands………

            Blurr’s worried voice about the light in the archway getting brighter and larger………….

            Hot Rod’s grunts as he struggled with…………..something……………

            Drift could _only_ focus on Starscream, but Starscream’s focus on him began to drift away as he realized his life’s work was about to be labelled a failure— _again_!   And in those few precious seconds that Starscream’s focus wandered, Drift’s greatsword pierced through his teacher’s chest and flowed with purple-pink lifeblood along its length.

            “I’m _so sorry_ , Starscream…………….. ** _I’m so sorry_**!”  Drift gasped as he sunk to the floor with his teacher’s fading frame.

            At the very same time……………

            “I looked all around the gate and I can’t see any weak spot in the arch—I’m afraid to just cut it anywhere for fear it might explode and take us all with it,” Blurr said, worry deep in his voice.  “And that light………….it’s getting brighter and…………..bigger!”

            Override was swearing like any other angry mech—despite being a femme—banging a fist lightly on the side of the control panel.   “This is well-constructed……………he knew what he was making and how to protect it—there’s no disruptor settings for this device!”  The stocky femme from Velocitron growled heatedly.

            “Then………… _I guess there’s no choice_ —hang on everyone, I dunno what this will do…………..” Hot Rod snapped, walking over to where the Matrix was slotted into a strange-looking adaptor port.   He grabbed the silver bracers on the sides of the golden orb-shaped object and began to pull on it as hard as he could.

            Blurr was just about to come over to help when energy—the same rippling all over the frame of the arch—began to spit and slither all over Hot Rod’s body.   It wasn’t affecting the flame-colored mech whatsoever, but the young blue mech had a feeling he’d _probably be killed_ by that energy if he even tried to get close.   He warned Override not to try to help right now, either— _it was all up to Hot Rod_.

            Hot Rod grunted and muttered soft pleas and curses as he tried to get the Matrix to disconnect from the adaptor port.   He felt the waves of energy crashing into his body, over it and through it.    He groaned and gave one final heave backwards and almost stumbled when the Matrix popped free…………. _but he was saved by the light_.

            The light wrapped around him, desired him, loved him and changed him.  Branded him with all that it was and a familiar mark burned itself onto his chestplate in the center of his flames.

            **_{Arise, Rodimus Prime…………..}_** the chorus of voices whispered inside his very Spark.

            After the whirlwind of light changed his frame, both inside and out, it flew back into the crystal heart of the Matrix and laid quietly, obediently in the flame-colored mech’s hands.   His optics came back online and strange glyphs flashed on his HUD, behind his optics.   Over-and-over in ancient glyphs were the words:  “ _My beloved child_.”

            He realized he now had the _knowledge of eternity_ , a portion of Primus’ great power…………..and the desire to finally claim his true destiny.   **_He was no longer Hot Rod of Corona……………….now he was Rodimus Prime—the Protector of the Colonies, the Leader of the Autobots……………and the soon-to-be Slayer of Unicron._**

**Author's Note:**

> Destiny is claimed. I bet you all can't wait to see Magnus' reaction.............


End file.
